Hurry Home
by A-World-Of-My-Imagination
Summary: Alex goes on a mission for MI6 again, even though Jack didn't want him to.


**Hurry Home**

**Disclaimer…Alex Rider doesn't belong to me, nor the song Hurry Home. Both belong to their wonderful author/singer, Anthony Horowitz and what's his face….**

**Jack sat morosely by the telephone in the Rider household. She was the housekeeper there, and guardian of the last surviving Rider, Alex. John and his wife had been killed in an airplane "accident", leaving Alex an orphan when he was a baby. Alex's godfather, Ash, had blown up the plane transporting Mr. and Mrs. Rider for a test. He had wanted to join a criminal organization called Scorpia. Alex hadn't been on the plane when everyone on it died, and had lived with his uncle, Ian Rider, until he died. Ian had been thought to work at a bank until his death. The circumstances of his death had shocked even Jack and Alex, who had known him for years. Ian had been a MI6 agent, and had been killed by an assassinator named Yassen Gregorovich on his way home from a mission. Jack had been caring for the fourteen year old orphan since Ian's death a year previous. Alex had been recruited by the MI6 multiple times for various missions. It was incredibly useful to have a talented, kid spy, as no one suspects a teenager of working for a top-secret agency. Alex had succeeded at all the missions he had been assigned, and had been continually brought back and forced to cooperate under threats, despite his and Jack's protests. After the last dangerous mission, where Alex had barely escaped with his life, Jack had put her foot down. She had made Alex promise to never get involved with the MI6 (or the CIA or ASIS) again. Last night, though, Alex had disappeared without a trace. Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones of the MI6 weren't giving Jack any information, except that Alex had accepted the mission of his own free will.**

_**She's been sitting by the phone since he left, But it's time for work, and she just can't be late, **_

**Jack worked at a small coffee shop, and had been told that if she were late one more time, she would be fired. She looked at the clock sadly and hurried to find the battered old guitar that she and Alex used to often have fun with, and recorded a message for him.**

_**So she grabbed her old guitar, and she played a couple bars on the machine, then she softly sings; it doesn't matter what you've done; I still love you. It doesn't matter where you've been; you can still come home. And honey, if it's you, we've got a lot of making up to do, and I can't hug you on the phone; so hurry home.**_

**Jack got back a couple hours later to see the message light blinking. She ran to press the voice mail button, hoping that it would be Alex. Instead, she heard Mr. Smithers. "Hey, Jack, just found out about Alex. Haven't heard anything about him here at the bank, but I'll call if I get any information."**

_**Well the message light was blinking when she got back. Was an old friend calling, 'cause he'd just heard the news. He said, girl I hope you find him. If I see him I'll remind him that his friend his worried, and wants him to know; It doesn't matter what you've done; I still love you. It doesn't matter where you've been; you can still come home. And honey, if it's you, we've got a lot of making up to do, and I can't hug you on the phone; so hurry home.**_

**It had been weeks since Alex disappeared, almost seven months. Everyone told her that the message was pointless by now, that if he hadn't returned then he was dead. Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones said the same thing, that if he wasn't back from the mission yet, that he was dead. It was took all Jack's willpower to not strangle the pair then and there.**

_**Well the days dragged by, without a word from him. And it looked like he might not be coming back. People said, girl don't you think it's time to take that old message off? But she said, no. You never know when he might call.**_

"**Aren't you going to take me home?" Alex demanded. His fifteenth birthday had come and gone weeks ago without anyone noticing or caring, and his hair was long and grimy, as though he had gone without a shower after falling in a puddle of mud and water. He was shivering in his soaked cloths as the brisk, freezing air bit at his bare arms and ankles. One of his arms was in a cast and sling, and the other wrapped because of severe burns. He had a limp, and would for the rest of his life, because of a stray bullet. He was of no more use to the MI6 in his condition, and he was almost relieved.**

"**No." the man replied shortly. He had just dropped off the teen in front of him in New York, as instructed. How the kid was supposed to get back to England wasn't his problem; the kid had no more use, and was now on his own.**

_**He was just outside a bar in New York City. His so-called friends had left him all alone. He was scared she wouldn't want him; but he dialed up that old number**_

**Alex watched in disbelief as the helicopter flew away, leaving him with only the clothes on his back, some spare change, and a ticket for an airport a hundred miles away. He spotted a pay phone and went over to it, dialing the number of Jack and his' house with numb fingers. He hoped and prayed that Jack would still be there, still want to take care of him, still love him after he had run off to help the MI6 again. Jack wasn't home, but the recording on the answering machine shocked the boy.**

_**Then he heard her sing;**__**it doesn't matter what you've done; I still love you. It doesn't matter where you've been; you can still come home. And honey, if it's you, we've got a lot of making up to do, and I can't hug you on the phone; so hurry home.**_

**Jack walked in to the big empty house to hear someone leaving a voice mail. She cried tears of joy when she recognized Alex's voice.**

_**She walked in just in time to hear him say; Jack I'm on my way.**_


End file.
